![[Rear View] The night they asked Pete Lacaba to sing, and the song that made him cry](https://i1.wp.com/www.rappler.com/tachyon/2026/10/PETE-LACABA-SONG-OCT-16-2026.jpg?ssl=1&quality=80&strip=all "[Rear View] The night they asked Pete Lacaba to sing, and the song that made him cry")
[Rear View] The night they asked Pete Lacaba to sing, and the song that made him cry
The night ended with a rare request. Pete was asked to sing. Pete Lacaba walked into My Brother’s Mustache, a folk house in Quezon City, just as Pat Castillo began her set. It was past eight, and word had gone around that he might not make it. For a moment no one noticed him come in with his son, Kris. He could have been any silver-haired retiree, come to honor a man whose life and work is being celebrated that night. Then he scanned the standing-room-only crowd, waved at familiar faces, and the room stirred. People came up to greet him. Pete smiled, the fog of memory lifting with a firm handshake, a pat on the back, a familiar face, a name. Call time had been five. By half past five, the place was nearly full, and extra tables and chairs had to be brought out. Most of the crowd have gone silver: faces behind the bylines, faces you see on television or in movies, faces from one underground meeting or another, faces one had known by …
